Under the moon's luminous glow, a young woman hummed a familiar tune, a song her mother had once sung to her as a child. Since her parents' passing, it had become her lullaby, a comfort woven into the fabric of her memories.
The moonlight bathed her smooth, fair skin and cascaded over her long, raven-colored hair, which reached just below her waist. She skipped along the quiet path, a paper bag clutched to her chest, until she arrived at an old, weathered building. Stopping at the door, she knocked softly, waiting. No answer.
"Grandma, I'm home," she called out as she gently pushed the door open, locking it behind her. She stepped into the dimly lit living room, searching for her grandmother. Silence.
"I brought your medicine and your favorite drink too," she added with a small smile, glancing at the grape-flavored milk in her hand. Her grandmother had often reminisced about the taste, saying it reminded her of the orchard her family once owned.
Still met with silence, she made her way upstairs to her grandmother's room. As she pushed the door open with a soft creak, a chilling stillness filled the air. Then—time seemed to stop.
"Grandma! GRANDMA!!"
Dread gripped her chest. The next moments blurred together. Before she knew it, her grandmother was being loaded into an ambulance, and she was ushered inside alongside her.
Tears continued to fall as she sat in the hospital waiting room, watching nurses and doctors rush back and forth. A sudden ringing filled her ears, her vision swam, and her knees buckled beneath her. Darkness pulled her under.
—
A steady beeping sound stirred her awake.
Blurred, fleeting images danced in her subconscious before vanishing into the void. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, only to squeeze shut again against the harsh white hospital lights. She rubbed them, blinking away the fogginess, then sat up, scanning her unfamiliar surroundings.
Realization struck like a bolt of lightning. She leapt from the bed, bolting out of the ward, her only thought: Grandma.
She barely made it down the hall before a firm yet gentle grip stopped her.
"Hold on, Artemis—"
She froze. That voice. She turned, coming face to face with Doctor Leonard, his green eyes filled with an unsettling sadness.
"Yes, Doctor Leonard?" she asked, forcing a hopeful smile. "How's my grandma?"
A silence stretched between them, suffocating.
"I'm sorry, Artemis…" His voice was soft, but the weight of his words crushed her.
She took a step back, shaking her head. "No… It can't… it can't be…"
Tears welled up, spilling freely down her cheeks.
"We did everything we could," Leonard continued, his expression heavy with grief. "But Grandma Mabel didn't make it. I'm so sorry."
His words shattered her. A sob tore from her throat as her legs gave way beneath her. Leonard caught her before she could hit the floor, wrapping his arms around her as she wailed in the sterile hospital corridor.
Onlookers, themselves touched by loss, cast glances of quiet sympathy. But in that moment, nothing existed beyond the crushing weight of grief.